


Repercussions

by penstrikesmidnight



Series: IwaOi Horror Week 2019 [6]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Car Accidents, IwaOi Horror Week, M/M, Olympics, Possible Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 01:46:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21245477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penstrikesmidnight/pseuds/penstrikesmidnight
Summary: Oikawa and Bokuto are in a serious car accident three days before their Olympic gold medal match. Bokuto is fighting for his life, but for some reason Oikawa got off without a scratch. Maybe the voice in his head really was divine.





	Repercussions

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts: **Anything for the Olympic gold**/It's all coming true/**This is what you wanted**/Written in blood/Everything will be fine/**I've dreamed but I forgot**
> 
> The violence isn't too graphic, but there is a car accident that plays a vital role in the story, so I figured better safe than sorry. Anyway, hope you like it!

Tooru wakes up to blinding lights overhead. He cringes, raises his hand to cover his eyes, only to notice his hand is currently attached to something with a needle. He blinks down at it, then he realizes that there is beeping in his ear, wires attached to his chest, and his shirt is torn open. There seems to be a lot of blood on his chest, but he feels fine.

He tries to sit up, but the bed he is in is unwieldy, too small for his large frame. He groans when the needle in his wrist pulls, which draws the attention of a doctor.

"Sir, please, you need to stay down..."

"What the hell is going on?" Tooru asks. He doesn't miss the way the doctor creases his eyebrows as if he were the one confused.

"Sir, you were in a very serious car accident..."

_Lights flash on the left side of his body, too quick for him to move, to brace himself, to do anything other than allow..._

Tooru blinks, the memory (dream?) fading away. He glances down at his hands, but they feel fine. He pats his body, shifts his legs, moves his head from side to side. "Listen, I feel fine. Sorry to cause you all this trouble..."

That's when he looks over and sees the other source of commotion. He would recognize that black and gray hairstyle anywhere, although now it is matted with drying blood. "Bokuto!" The doctor has to physically restrain Tooru from moving from his bed.

"He was in the same accident as you. Same side of the car. He's currently in critical condition and we are doing everything in our power to save his life."

Tooru stares in horror as the nurses and doctors urgently snap orders at each other, refuses to notice the blood, the way Bokuto looks so _wrong_...

"Tooru! Shit, what the fuck are you doing?" Tooru jolts out of his reverie to see Hajime pushing through the doors, a confused doctor on his heels. "They said you were in a serious accident! What the fuck are you doing sitting up arguing with the people trying to help you..."

"Settle down, Hajime, your worry is showing," Tooru says. Hajime's jaw clenches, his hands tightening into fists. Tooru suddenly remembers that Hajime must have been told that Tooru had been involved in a life-threatening accident, that he might not survive, that he needed to hurry over to the hospital or he might not make it.

"Sorry," he whispers. Hajime takes a deep breath before walking over to Tooru, lacing their hands together.

Akaashi comes rushing in not twenty seconds later, looking more disheveled than Tooru has ever seen him before. His eyes skim Tooru before falling on Bokuto. His face goes ashy as he takes in the scene. "Kou..."

The heart monitor attached to Bokuto's chest suddenly flatlines. Akaashi's breath catches in his throat. Tooru is stuck in this damn bed, but Hajime walks over to Akaashi, places his hand on his shoulder in support. Akaashi swipes at a few tears that start down his cheeks. The doctors are yelling, surrounding Bokuto, Tooru closes his eyes...

Eventually, everything is quiet. They got Bokuto's heart started again, but took him in for immediate surgery. Tooru sits on his bed, elbows tucked into his sides, hands on the back of his neck. What was happening? How could he be fine when Bokuto looked like that? They said even the driver had whiplash and a pretty heavy concussion from hitting his head against the window. But no matter how many times Tooru goes over his body, he cannot find a single thing wrong with him.

"Hey," Hajime murmurs. "I'm going to go out with Akaashi. The doctor's going to let him know what's going on. You good?"

Tooru nods. Hajime nods back, kisses his forehead, whispers, _I'm so glad you're okay_, and leaves Tooru sitting by himself in his own blood, without a scratch on him.

***

The doctors are reluctant to let Tooru go, but there is literally nothing wrong. He is the picture of perfect health. He allows them to run whatever tests they want, as long as they approve him to play in the gold medal Olympic match in three days. "I don't have a concussion," Tooru says for at least the fifteenth time, because that seems to be the easiest thing to diagnose Tooru with to keep him from playing. "I am going to get that gold medal..."

"You know, if we win, you'll still get the gold," Kuroo says. He has been a constant through the night at the hospital, almost as much as Akaashi. "Unless you're implying that we won't win without you."

Tooru wrinkles his nose. "Bokuto is still in a coma. The team is in pieces. We need as much normalcy as we can get. Ushijima is great at being an immovable stone wall and the epitome of stability, but he's not very good at instilling confidence. If I'm sitting on the sidelines, it is just going to be a reminder of what happened. And besides, why should I sit out when I am perfectly fine? I will do anything in my power to make sure the team sees this Olympic gold."

Kuroo sighs, leans back in his seat. He looks so tired. Most of the team does, but Kuroo especially. Tooru only feels slightly guilty when he says, "We need to win this for Bokuto, right?"

Kuroo's eyes meet his. "Yeah. Yeah, that would be nice."

When Tooru gets back to his apartment (he should stay in the Olympic Village, but because of the stress of everything he got permission to stay at home) Hajime is waiting for him. He curls himself up on the couch next to him, a solid, constant warmth.

"I..." Hajime starts. He rubs at his left wrist, as if it hurts. "I was going to do this after your match, after things settle down, but after that scare we had, I thought I should do it now."

Hajime pulls a box out from his pocket. Tooru sits up, eyes wide, when he realizes that it's a _ring_ box. "Hajime..."

"You don't...No pressure. We haven't really talked about it, but...if you want...I want to marry you. Shit, this was not how I envisioned this moment."

"It's perfect," Tooru says, grabbing the box from Hajime's hand. The band is simple, a dark titanium, not too flashy. "And yes, I want to marry you too. You didn't even ask me, rude Hajime. Here, put it on me."

Hajime grins as he takes the ring out of the box and slips it onto Tooru's finger. Tooru admires the way it looks against his skin. He pushes the nagging thought of guilt away, because Bokuto had talked about proposing to Akaashi for months, and now he's lying in a hospital, fighting for his life.

Tooru wonders why he was spared. At night, he remembers the fear coursing through his brain, the firm resolution of doing anything to get a gold medal surging through his body. In that moment, it was the one thing he could think of.

When he wakes up, the dream slips through his fingers like fine sand in an hourglass, leaving him with a lingering sensation that he is forgetting something important.

***

Hajime is massaging his neck when Tooru walks out to the kitchen the next morning after showering, dressed in his practice uniform. "You okay?" Tooru asks, grabbing his breakfast of eggs and avocado out of the fridge, wrinkling his nose in distaste. Two more days. He can handle this terrible diet for two days. 

"Yeah, must have slept wrong. My neck and shoulder are killing me." Hajime winces when he rotates his shoulder.

"Take some Advil," Tooru advises, giving Hajime a kiss. "Love you. See you tonight?"

"Yeah. Are you staying here again?"

"Yeah, but tomorrow I'll stay with the team. You know, for unity and stability and all that."

"They probably need it," Hajime says with a frown. "Bokuto still hasn't woken up."

Tooru pushes down the irrational irritation that rises to the surface. "Yeah, but we're playing in the Olympics. In the gold medal game, in our own country. We can put aside our worries for an hour and a half to win. For Bokuto, if nothing else."

Hajime stares at Tooru. "You're sure you're all right?"

"Bye, Hajime!" Tooru says instead of answering, slamming the door shut behind him. He walks briskly to the train station. He doesn't think his reactions were too out of line, but he also has purposefully not talked about the car crash with anyone, even Hajime. He will deal with these repercussions after he wins this gold medal. 

This has been his dream for so long. He is not letting this one get away from him like he has everything else when it comes to volleyball.

***

"Maybe you're sick," Tooru offers as he watches Hajime limp into the living room as he zips up his overnight duffle. "Don't come to the game tomorrow if you aren't feeling well."

Hajime rolls his eyes. "Yeah right. How many times do you get to watch your fiancé play in an Olympic gold medal volleyball match? Of course I'll come support you. Even if you have to come home to watch me instead of celebrating because I’m delirious with fever afterward.”

Tooru’s cheeks warm at the mention of fiancé. He fingers his ring. “Let me know if you get worse though. I can come back home tonight if you need me to.”

Hajime shakes his head. He gives Tooru a brief kiss. All night Tooru has this nagging feeling in the back of his mind that he should check on Hajime, that he is forgetting something important. He has felt this way ever since the night he was supposedly in that car crash. But all he does is send a text, which Hajime responds to by yelling at him to stop worrying and take care of himself. Even sick, Hajime cares more about Tooru than himself. 

Tooru’s gut twists further into unexplainable guilt. That night, he dreams that he is given an ultimatum. Stay on the court and lose Hajime, or stay with Hajime and lose volleyball. He hates that he chooses the court. “I wouldn’t in real life,” Tooru whispers to himself in the bathroom at three in the morning. “I would clearly choose Hajime.”

***

Tooru has never felt as excited as he does walking onto that Olympic court. Sure, he has played here a few times now, but nothing compares to the actual gold medal match. He waves at the crowd, basks in the cheers. There is no way they are losing this game.

In the locker room beforehand, their coach had given a rousing speech about winning this game through hardships, and Tooru couldn't agree more. He had given so much to stand here on this court. Now, the gold medal was within his grasp.

He sees Hajime in reserved seating next to Kenma. Akaashi is not there, but Tooru is hardly surprised. If he had been in the hospital, he knows Hajime would not leave his side for anything, even for his volleyball team. Hajime looks pale, but otherwise okay. He waves, winces, drops his arm. Tooru glances around at his team, but before he can walk over Hajime shakes his head no. Tooru pouts but turns back to his team.

They make an announcement about Bokuto, because of course they do. Tooru stands silent, embarrassed as his teammates side-eye him. They know he and Bokuto went out together that night, but no one wants to ask Tooru what happened. Truthfully, Tooru is grateful because he still doesn't _know_ what happened, and it is getting unnerving. They had not drunk anything, had not done anything to make Tooru have a whole night erased from his memory. So why could he not remember anything?

Tooru is up to serve first. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, spins the ball in his hands. He can do this. He is feeling so good today, everything crystal clear in his mind. This gold medal belongs to him.

He throws the ball up perfectly. His run, jump, hit executed flawlessly. An ace. He allows himself a brief smile as his teammates cheer. This is the best way to start the game.

And his luck keeps going. He is unsure what is happening, this intense focus, this perfect control he has over his body. It is uncanny. "Dude, whatever you took today, don't stop," Kuroo says jokingly when they are in their final set with ease. Tooru grins. This game--it will be theirs. The gold medal will be his. He has a ring in his duffel bag in his locker that tells him how much Hajime loves him. This is everything he has ever wanted, about to come true. 

Brazil is taking their final timeout, a desperate attempt to put together something to stop the monster that Tooru has become on the court. Tooru closes his eyes, hones his focus on his body, on how wonderful he feels. He has not felt this good since he was in high school, before his knee started acting up. He feels like he can play seven more games just like this.

He is back up to serve. Tooru loves volleyball, loves feeling part of a team, a necessary asset for success, loves the rules and the challenges and the way the ball feels against his fingertips when he sets it for his spiker. But his favorite part has always been when he plays alone, when it is just him and the ball and the net, him controlling whether or not a serve will earn a point for his team.

This is not only a point he will win here, but match point. Oikawa Tooru could win this whole match right here, right now, with the perfect serve.

He grins. He has had such a good day. He is going to make this serve.

He goes through his normal routine. Bounces the ball, spins it in his hands. He throws it up (so perfectly), takes his steps, jumps, and aims right for the weakest spot in their defense.

The man tries, Tooru will give him that, but it's useless. The ball spins out of bounds, giving Japan the match. The gold medal. Everything Tooru has ever dreamed of.

"Yes!" he screams into the air. He jumps up, pumps his fist. His teammates jump on him, almost sending him to his knees, but Ushijima interferes just in time. Tooru even gives him a grin, welcoming him into their celebration. "We did it!"

"Of course we did," Ushijima says.

Tooru rolls his eyes and turns to look for Hajime, wanting to bask in his praise. Instead, he sees that side of the court scrambling, yelling for a different matter. Kenma is kneeling on the ground, his hands pressed to his mouth, staring at a prone body. Tooru glances around in confusion, then sees Kuroo jogging over to him, eyes wide in panic.

"Kenma said...Iwaizumi collapsed," Kuroo says, trying to catch his breath. "I don't know, he started coughing up blood. The whole side of his body looks like it caved in. Almost like he was hit by a train."

_Lights flash on the left side of his body, too quick for him to move, to brace himself, to do anything other than allow the impact about to happen. He feels an explosion of pain, feels his neck snap in the wrong direction, something in his leg tear as his body is thrown one way, his leg pinned by the door. His head is a spiderweb of cracks, hitting first the window then the backseat._

The match..._Tooru thinks, hazily, his consciousness folding._

What would you give to win that match? _a voice asks him._

Anything, _is Tooru's immediate answer._

You would give this pain to someone else to endure? You are dying, your body unable to function with your neck snapped like so.

Yes, _is Tooru's response. A picture flashes into his mind of Hajime, his beautiful, loving Hajime, and in his hazy delirium he replies,_ Anything for the gold.

"Hajime!" Tooru screams, pushing through the crowd, desperate to reach him. The court seems to grow, stretch away forever as he stumbles across.

Kuroo wasn't exaggerating when he said Hajime looks like he had been hit by a train. His cheekbone is probably shattered, his left side a mess of blood and bones... "Is he breathing?" Tooru whispers to the paramedics, who look terrified.

"Just barely. We need to get him to the hospital as soon as possible."

"Damn, what the hell happened to him?" one of them mutters. "His neck..."

This cannot be happening. Tooru presses his hands to his mouth, willing himself not to vomit. _This is what you wanted._

Tooru shakes his head. 

"Are you family?" One of the EMTs startles Tooru out of his trance with the question. He nods. "Are you coming in the ambulance?" Tooru nods again, follows as they load Hajime up into the back. Tooru slips his hand into Hajime's more-or-less okay one, tears leaking out of his eyes. This is all his fault. He doesn't know what happened, or how, but here Hajime lies with all of the injuries that should have been Tooru's.

There are two scares on the way to the hospital that Tooru pushes out of his mind. They take Hajime back as soon as they arrive, leaving Tooru alone in the waiting room to fill out paperwork and worry. He stares at the doors where he had been just days before, irritated at the fact that they would not let him move from the position he had been placed in. Seeing Hajime, seeing what his own body should have looked like, makes him want to vomit again.

A hand wraps around his back. "Oikawa-san. I heard that Iwaizumi-san was rushed into surgery. I am sorry."

Tooru leans into Akaashi's side. "How's Bokuto?"

"The same. They don't know whether he is going to wake up or not, but yesterday there was some slight movement, so they are hopeful."

"Do you know..." Tooru swallows, forces himself to continue, "Do you know where the impact was? Of the car? Do you know how much I should have been hurt?"

Akaashi shifts uncomfortably. "They said...Well, they thought you died on impact. One of the EMTs said they got your heart started, but you weren't breathing on your own, and they didn't think you would wake up. You...You took the brunt of it, so it is a miracle you are...so healthy."

Tooru presses his hands back to his mouth. He remembers the way Hajime's eyes lit so earnestly when Tooru took the ring from him. He sees Hajime rubbing at his neck, shrugging his shoulder to ease the pain that Tooru had thrust upon him. 

_I take it back_, Tooru thought, pleading to whatever god he had bargained with to hear him. _I was delirious...Not in my right mind..._

_Anything_, the voice curls around Tooru's mind, _you said anything for the Olympic gold_.

"Oikawa-san." Tooru's head jerks up at the sound on his name. A doctor stands calm, unruffled, as if Tooru's world is not shattering apart. "Can we speak?"

Tooru nods dumbly, making no move to stand. He feels Akaashi's hand squeeze his arm. "Can...Can he stay?"

The doctor nods, takes a seat across from Tooru. "Iwaizumi Hajime is still in surgery. I will tell you, the odds are not favorable at the moment, but we are trying our best. Luckily, his spinal cord is still intact, so the neck fracture needs to be set and monitored. The worst part is one of his lungs has been punctured by his ribs..."

Tooru floats through the conversation after that. Akaashi asks most of the questions. Tooru feels bad sending him through this a second time. The doctor gets up to leave after a few minutes, shooting Tooru a concerned glance that Akaashi smooths over.

"This is all my fault," Tooru says finally.

Akaashi blinks at him, silent for a few seconds before replying. "The doctor said that so far Iwaizumi-san is hanging on. He said that if he gets through the next six hours, the chances of him surviving are exponentially better." Tooru nods, allowing silence to fall once again. "I just...don't understand. When would Hajime have been in an accident to make him...look like that? Weren't you just playing ball?"

Tooru rubs his forehead. "I...You won't believe me."

Akaashi's stare is impassive so Tooru sighs and spills everything. "I don't know what happened exactly, but when I got injured I was so upset I wouldn't play for the gold. And then something started...talking to me. Asking me if I would do anything to play. And I guess I said yes. I don't know! I never would have if...if..."

Akaashi's look is skeptical. "I wouldn't believe me either, but Hajime did not get hit by a car. He was sitting on the fucking court next to Kenma! How else could he possibly get hurt like that?"

Akaashi finally looks away, shrugs. "No matter. I guess we'll just have to sit here and wait to see what happens."

Tooru glances down at his empty hands. He had won the Olympics, sure, but his ring sat in his duffel bag in the locker room, the love of his life fighting to live in a room down the hall because he had taken on Tooru's wounds.

What kind of monster was Tooru?

_This is what you wanted._

Tooru shudders at the voice, but deep, deep, down he realizes that maybe it were true.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments/kudos welcome!


End file.
